


TRAGEDY

by SeveralRainyDays



Series: Oneshots/drabbles [1]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Big Bang, Crying, Depression, First story, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I dont know how to tag, Injury, Lowkey depression, No Fluff, OT5, Other, References to Depression, Sad, Seungri centric, Seungri-centric, but not really???, i cant write relationships so they are just like brothers, idk what I was thinking, lowkey doing this on my school laptop so hope i dont get in trouble, seungri needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 01:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeveralRainyDays/pseuds/SeveralRainyDays
Summary: Sometimes you no longer feel anything, and those are the moments Seungri dislikes the most.





	TRAGEDY

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what I'm doing, I didn't proofread bc I don't feel like proofreading (lowkey lazy af)  
> Also it's my first short story so play nice y'all
> 
> Comments are v appreciated

Nothing was nice about being an idol. Many think it gets easier when you finally debut, years of long days and hard work put behind you.

No, this was so, so wrong. It almost made him want to laugh. Constantly being watched by management making sure you didn’t screw up and being reprimanded about trivial things. It was hard. It was hard, and it was painful. At this point, being a trainee seemed a lot easier. They’d at least get more than fifteen minutes to sleep each day.

The throbbing sensation from when he’d fallen during practice was back again. Lying on his bed, he’d constantly wonder why he was here. Sure, he should be grateful that the many people he had faced during his trainee years had lost and he had managed to debut, yet he didn’t feel anything. The remorse he’d once felt for the trainees, the regret, the happiness he’d felt once when he debuted was all gone. It was as if someone had just flipped a switch, and suddenly all the color in his world had become muddled shades of greys, blacks, and whites. Even trying to fathom what had happened was impossible. He could no longer recall the sensations he had felt when his group had debuted, he knew it was called happiness, but how do you describe happiness when you can’t feel it any longer? How could he describe the dismal days that slowly faded away, like a clock ticking; the feeling of melancholy when his uncle had passed? Nobody noticed the change in behavior anyways. His group members had long since moved out of the dorm. Most had went solo or became actors. So here he was, sitting in the dorm relishing in the abiding memories and the lingering silence.

He used to sit in the dorm and cry when they’d all first moved out, putting on a facade for the little to no group meetings they had. They had used to call a lot as well, he recalled. Always worrying for his well being. Now they didn’t call anymore, which was probably for the better. No longer did he have to pretend he was okay while he listened to the members rambling about a new job they had gotten, or that their new album was almost done. Those days were painful, but he’d rather feel pain then just being numb. At that time he’d at least been a second or third thought, now he wasn’t even that. Sure, it was probably his fault for them to stop talking to him. He’d never once accepted an offer to go to the new karaoke place down the street, or to the new restaurant opening soon. They had just stopped calling him. He understood though, because what is the point of calling someone so reluctant to do anything?

He should probably be sad. He lived alone in the dorm, not capable of even doing simple tasks such as eating or washing the pile of dishes in his sink. But he wasn’t sad, no he was far past that point.

He wasn’t sad. He was numb.

He couldn’t even feel a shroud of emotion, but nobody would notice.

It’s been years since he had last felt something close to resembling an emotion, the last time being shortly after they’d won yet another award. His group was famous, yet the fans knew nothing.

You do get good at pretending once you’ve been doing it for years. Practice makes perfect, right?

Their comeback was nowhere near, yet here he was. Practicing alone with his feet scraping against the cold, wooden floor. He didn’t need to practice, but he didn’t want to be at the dorm. There were too many memories he’d be forced to remember then. He didn’t like the feeling of drowning in a puddle of oil, slowly losing his breath and choking out words for them to save him. But they never would, why would they? He was just another person.

So this was where he decided to go. He’d been thinking for a long time, many years in fact. This was the day he’d take action though, no more sitting around doing nothing for hours upon hours.

Yes, today was the day he’d take action.

The wind was cool against his skin and blowing a light breeze throughout the city. He was sitting on a ledge, on top of building number four, one pulling him forward and one pulling him back. He was now the object of a fruitless game of tug of war. He picked up his cold phone, licked his chapped and almost unmoving lips. Slowly he pulled his hand towards his ear.

“Seungri? Why are you calling so late? You never call.”

“...”

“Seungri? Seungri, are you there? Are you okay?”

Is he okay? He had never really thought of it before.

“Hyung, I-” his voice choked back a sob. He felt paralyzed, constricted, trapped even. He took a breath and gulped down his fears. His voice was barely a whisper, “Hyung, I’m sad.”

One side gave on last final tug, succeeding in winning over the other side. Seungri went with the last tug. The one side was cheerful for winning, but the other was sad for losing.


End file.
